River of Stars

Chapter Four

Since arriving in Rivendell Abis had mostly kept to his three favorite hobbies. Reading in places he wasn't supposed to get to, following Strider places he wasn't supposed to, and avoiding as many people as he could. As well as admiring the scenery, of course.
The valley in which Rivendell resided was so deep it was more as if it were surrounded by mountains on all sides, with big rocky cliffs and towering trees, and waterfalls and rivers that ran endlessly. It was beautiful, and perfectly serene. Like nothing could ever touch it.
Of course, he knew from the young hobbit who was only now just recovering that everything could be reached somehow.
But still, this one place stood completely free of the cities and industries of men, and the destruction they brought with them. They were strange that way. Whether they meant to bring it or not, trouble always seemed to find humans more than any other creature. Or maybe the humans were themselves the destruction.
Either way, he felt unbelievable bliss to be rid of whatever human curse haunted him. For the moment at least.
Still, for comfort and for appearance, he pulled on a fresh loose laced tunic and his usual clothes, though leaving his cloak in his room, but still carrying his shield at his side. The difference now was that he felt safe. He did not believe he would use it.

He waited for Strider to enter the council, and they sat together on one side of the circle. Abis surveyed the people around him. There were elves, humans, dwarves, and of course a hobbit and a wizard. But one in particular, in fact only one at all, caught his eye.
"Strangers from far away lands, friends of old, you have been summoned here to answer the threat of Mordor," Elrond said stoically. It was around here Abis largely lost interest in the conversation, focusing instead on the beautiful elf across the circle.
Like many of the other elves Abis had met, he had straight blond hair with little delicate braids, a deceptively lean build, fine clothes, and a beautiful face. But there was something so much softer about his features, his mannerisms, even just the way he sat. The presence he radiated was not of someone who held themselves above you but found you an equal. It was a strange feeling, truly incapable of description.
The elf obviously felt him staring, because he turned his dark blue eyes to meet Abis's, lingering a moment before moving back around the circle. Even his eyes were odd. So many elves eyes were harsh and grey or black, but his were more like a sea, made of levels of color that pulled you in like the current.
Eventually Abis let his gaze drift away, focusing again on what Elrond was saying.
"Each race is bound to this fate, this one doom." He turned to Frodo. "Bring forth the ring, Frodo."
Frodo rose from his seat and approached the center of the circle, placing the ring gently on a raised - for lack of a better word - table of sorts in the center.
"So it is true," a stunned voice some seats from Aragorn said.
Both Abis and Strider turned to glance at the man, burly with straight brown hair and a slight beard.
The same man rose from his seat, taking slow steps towards the ring.
"In a dream..." he said. "I saw the Eastern sky grow dark. But in the West, a pale light lingered. A voice was crying, 'your doom is at hand.'."
Now he loomed over the ring, the way he stood setting Abis on edge. Abis rose slowly and quietly from his seat, but was steadied by Strider's hand on his wrist.
"'Isildur's bane is found.' Isuldur's bane..." As he finished speaking he reached out for the ring, and Strider released his wrist. Abis shot forward, grabbing the wrist or the hand reaching for the ring and pulling him back by his other shoulder.
"Boromir!" Elrond shouted at the same time. Gandalf began to chant in a language not familiar to Abis. All these actions startled the man considerably, him stumbling back towards his chair. As Gandalf finished at the dark cloud that had gathered dissipated, the man, who was apparently named Boromir, shook Abis off of him and sat back down in his seat.
Abis held his hand out, palm held to the ground, and raised an eyebrow. When Boromir only stared, eyes wide, Abis nodded once and took his own seat again.
"Never before has any voice uttered the words of that tongue here, in Imladris." Elrond looked at Gandalf with an expression of warning.
"I do not ask your pardon, Master Elrond, for the Black Speech of Mordor may yet be heard in every corner of the West!" Gandalf said before turning to take his chair like the others. "The Ring is altogether evil."
Boromir, apparently recovered from his temporary silence of fear, sat forward in his chair, gesturing with his hands as he talked.
"It is a gift," he reasoned, and Gandalf turned sharply to look at him once more. "A gift to the foes of Mordor. Why not use this ring? Long has my father, the Steward of Gondor, kept the forces of Mordor at bay. By the blood of our people, are your lands kept safe. Give Gondor the weapon of the enemy. Let us use it against him."
By this point Boromir had risen again from his seat and was pacing around the circle as if trying to convince each person.
"So by offering protection, you believe you are entitled to destruction?" Abis asked. Boromir turned quickly to glare at him, but Abis did not pause to give him a chance to speak. "You speak as if this protection you have given the people of Middle Earth has been a favor that must be repaid, and I would like to know why. Why broadcast your entitlement to all when we all know what must be done?"
Boromir tried to speak again, but was this time interrupted by Aragorn.
"You cannot wield it. None of us can. The one ring answers to Sauron alone. It has no other master," Strider had an uncanny ability to keep his voice perfectly level, even when he was upset. It seemed like a second nature to him, this thing Abis had worked so hard for yet could still not control entirely. It was admirable.
"And what," Boromir hissed. "Would a ranger and a child know of this matter?"
Before Abis could jump to either his or Strider's defense, the pretty elf boy leapt up from his seat.
"This is no mere ranger," he said. "He is Aragorn, son of Arathorn. You owe him your allegiance."
Abis glanced over at Strider and the small smile of pride did not go unnoticed. He knew he had won.
"Aragorn. This is Isuldur's heir?"
"And heir to the throne of Gondor."
At this Strider's smile disappeared, and he said one of the Elvish phrases Abis himself was actually quite familiar with. And from this, Abis also got his name.
"Sit down, Legolas." Legolas did not sit down. And neither did Boromir.
"Gondor has no king," he spat. Then he began walking over to Strider. "Gondor needs no king."
As Boromir began getting too close for comfort, Abis rose again, this time keeping his head tilted down as he pushed his hand against Boromir's chest and whispered to him.
"I care very little what you think of me. From your display here alone, I believe I care nothing at all. But your fight is over now. Sit down." Boromir hesitated, but he must have had at least enough sense to know when he had lost. He scoffed once more then turned and sat in his seat.
Strider gave Abis a nod of thanks as he sat down again.
"Aragorn is right. We cannot use it," Gandalf said clearly, quickly moving past Boromir.
"We have only one choice. The ring must be destroyed." Elrond nodded finally, and all around the circle people stared at the little harmless looking ring of metal.
"Then what are we waiting for," one stout dwarf with a mass of red hair and an ax yelled, rising from his seat. He raised his ax and brought it down against the ring, but it glanced off with no effect to the metal. The dwarf however, promptly fell flat on his back.
Across the circle Frodo clutched his hands to his face, flinching as if something had burned him. Broken pieces of the poor dwarves ax lay scattered across the council's floor, and Elrond only looked on with the slightest growing hint of exasperation.
"The ring cannot be destroyed," he explained indulgently, as if he were explaining the concept to small children rather than warriors. "Gimli, son of Gloin, by any craft that we possess. The ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom. Only there can it be unmade. It must be taken deep into Mordor, and cast back into the fiery chasm from whence it came."
"One of you must do this." Elrond finished, looking around the circle as if for volunteers to walk to the fiery pit of doom.
"One does not simply walk into Mordor," Boromir hissed. "Its Black Gates are guarded by more than just orcs. There is an evil there that does not sleep, and the Great Eye is ever-watchful. It is a barren wasteland, riddled with fire and ash and dust. The very air you breathe is a poisonous fume. Not with ten thousand men could you do this. It is folly."
Legolas jumped up again from his seat in protest.
"Have you heard nothing Lord Elrond has said? The ring must be destroyed!"
"And I suppose you think you're the one to do it!" Gimli shouted back.
"And if we fail, what then?" Boromir asked, now also rising from his seat.
They continued to argue, nearly everyone in the council rising to their feet in their own protests, until Frodo shot forward.
"I will take it!" He shouted. "I WILL TAKE IT!"
The room went silent after his second shout, everyone turning to him.
"I will take the Ring to Mordor." The brave little hobbit suddenly looked very small, and very scared. "Though... I do not know the way."
Gandalf looked down on the little hobbit, a sad smile on his face as he patted his shoulder.
"I shall help you bear this burden, Frodo Baggins, as long as it is yours to bear."
Abis rose slowly, pulling his shield onto his arm and kneeling before Frodo.
"You will not go alone, brave hobbit. As long as you need it, my shield is yours."
     Strider rose from his own seat then and stepped forward.
"If by my life or death I can protect you, I will." Abis smiled back at him, rising and stepping to the side so Strider could kneel before Frodo himself. "You have my sword."
"And you have my bow." Legolas said, coming to stand beside Frodo.
"And my ax." Said Gimli, coming to stand next to Legolas.
Then Boromir approached him.
"You carry the fates of us all, little one. If it is indeed the will of the council, Gondor will see it done." Abis offered Boromir a single nod when he turned to him, this time one of respect. Boromir nodded back.
"HERE!" The voice of another familiar hobbit shouted from the bushes, Samwise Gamgee running around to join his friend. "Mister Frodo's not going anywhere without me."
Elrond finally sighed his long suffering sigh.
"No, indeed, it's hardly possible to separate you, even when he is summoned to a secret council and you are not."
"WAIT," another hobbit shouted, two more running in to join the crowd as Elrond spun around to glare at them. "We're coming too!"
"You'll have to send us home tied up in a sack to stop us!" Merry added.
"Anyway," Pippin continued breathlessly. "You need people of intelligence on this sort of mission... quest... thing."
"Well that rules you out, Pip." Merry said, crossing his arms.
Elrond nodded to the group slowly, looking each of them over as he spoke.
"Ten companions," he said. "So be it. You shall be the Fellowship of the Ring."
"Great!" Pippin smiled, then his face fell into one of confusion. "Where are we going?"